


Someone Else's Life

by neckwear



Category: Chess - Rice/Ulvaeus/Andersson
Genre: F/F, just a little bit of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3761089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/pseuds/neckwear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florence meets with Svetlana in Bangkok. They end up getting along better than they had thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Else's Life

"Mrs. Sergievsky."

Svetlana's head turns, suddenly, a puff of relief as she sees it's only the woman she came here to meet.

The meeting wasn't conventional--the woman who had come to see her was her husband's mistress. Anatoly's second. Anatoly's love. 

The media calls her a whore, for being with a married man who has children and Svetlana is surprised that he hadn't taken his old opponent. He had been having a streak of affairs with men; it was a surprise that he chose his second. 

Perhaps it was some sort of sick tactic, but she couldn't be bothered to think about such a thing.

"Yes, hello," she says, a bit belated as she was lost in thought, and gets the first look at the infamous Miss Vassy.

The first thing she notices is her beauty.

She must be, what, thirty or so? She looked as if she was still in college. She looked young. Alive. Svetlana became wary of how she must look, because, after all, she had been raising two children while her husband had an affair with a mysterious Hungarian woman.

A smile plays on the other woman's lips. "It's lovely to finally meet you," she says, politely, her voice soft with an apparent English accent. She feels herself flush.

She sees now why Anatoly would want her. 

Before she can say another word, Florence takes over. "I apologize about...everything that must have happened to you and your children because of my selfish decisions."

"Well...," she starts, coyly. "It was not entirely your fault."

"It--"

"Please. I don't want to talk about my husband anymore."

"Alright," she says, a bit unsure of what to do next. Svetlana was not as flirtatious as her husband, that much was certain.

"But I do...I do forgive you."

Florence looks surprised, but accepts it nonetheless, sharing a smile, and Svetlana's not felt like this since she was first with Anatoly.

"Svetlana?"

"Yes?"

"You should know that I prefer blondes."  
\---  
Svetlana hasn't been with anyone in bed for a long time, and her children coming to sleep in bed with her when they were scared didn't count.

This was actual grown up touching, loving, and it was becoming more and more clear why Anatoly would run off with her.

Florence's tongue is flicking over her sensitive nub as Svetlana's fingers twist in the other woman's hair, in the sheets. 

She hasn't had this in so long; pleasure, sexual pleasure, had been something scarce in the past five or so years. Anatoly hadn't been attracted to her in so long, she knew, but she tries to not think about him and instead thinks about the other woman, which was easy, because her fingers were curled inside her, moving slowly, making her breathless. 

Florence comes up to her, bare chests pressing together as her fingers move, her mouth on her neck, kissing behind her ear like it's all she's wanted to do all day.

Svetlana knows this is wrong; she is a mother, a wife, and here she is, having sex with someone who isn't her husband. Hell, it's her husband's mistress, of all people, and she doesn't have time to think about how ironic it is because her mind is fuzzy and the only thing she feels now is pleasure.

She kisses Florence to muffle her cries, arching up against her as she comes, rolling her hips as the woman pressed against her murmurs something in Russian. It's hard to make out.

When the two of them are curled together, under the covers despite the humid air, which smells of salt and sex and Florence's perfume, she buries her head into her chest and registers what she said.

"It's okay," she replies, and Florence only holds her closer as they fall asleep under the Thai moon.  
\---  
Izvini.

Svetlana wonders how many times Florence has said that to Anatoly. How many times she's murmured the apology against his skin, pressing the sentiment into his neck. 

When Florence leaves in the morning, to go to Anatoly, Svetlana almost wants to pull her back into the bed.

She watches her get dressed. She's beautiful; curvy and gentle and soft and God, she was the most gorgeous woman Svetlana had ever been with. If she can even call it that.

"I see why Anatoly would want you," she murmurs, propped up on one elbow. The other woman laughs.

"He wanted something new. That's his problem."

"What is?"

"Nothing's enough for him." She notices her incredulous look. "You think he hasn't cheated on me before?"

Florence kisses her one last time before she slips away, and Svetlana catches one more glimpse of those sparkling eyes looking at her, sad and neutral and somehow empty. 

Svetlana almost feels bad for her.

When she goes home, she'll have her children. Her husband.

When Florence goes home, she'll have nothing.


End file.
